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Chapter 18: Fire Drills and Fake Towels

Author: Ann Lottimore
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2025-06-22 01:17:10

Saturday, 3:07 PM.

Sebastian Mason was doing what most emotionally constipated CEOs did on a Saturday — reviewing quarterly forecasts in his minimalist penthouse.

Until…

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The door almost died from how violently someone knocked.

He frowned, checked his watch, and opened the door like a man preparing to deny entry to the apocalypse.

Instead — he found it.

Katherine Brown.

In nothing but a giant towel.

Wet hair, flushed cheeks, manic grin.

“Hi,” she chirped, as
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    Morning begins with a calendar invitation. Not marked «Urgent.» Not marked «Confidential.» Just a simple notification appearing on Katherine's screen while she is halfway through her first email. 9:00 a.m. — Human Resources Subject: Internal Procedure Review She studies it for a second. No explanation. No agenda. Just thirty minutes reserved with the Head of Human Resources. She frowns slightly. That isn't normal. Not because HR never requests meetings. Because they almost always explain why. Across the office, the HQ Floor is already settling into another workday. Phones ring softly. Someone laughs near the coffee station. Sophie walks briskly between departments with three folders balanced against one arm. Everything looks ordinary. Which somehow makes the meeting invitation feel even stranger. Sebastian glances toward her office through the glass wall. Their eyes meet briefly. He notices the slight crease between her brows. He sends a short message. "Everything okay?"

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    The first sign that Mercer’s roundtable is becoming something larger arrives before Katherine finishes her first coffee. The HQ Floor is still waking up. Monitors glow to life one by one. Conversations begin in quiet clusters near the coffee station. Somewhere across the office, someone is already arguing about a budget spreadsheet. Normal. Predictable. Exactly the kind of morning. Katherine appreciates. Which is why Sophie’s appearance in her doorway immediately feels suspicious. The assistant is carrying a tablet. Never a good sign. “Good morning,” Katherine says. Sophie glances down at the screen. “That depends.” Katherine sighs. “Wonderful.” Sophie steps inside and places the tablet on the desk. “Mercer’s attendance list.” That gets her attention. Immediately. Katherine reaches for the device and begins scrolling. At first, nothing seems unusual. A few Board members. A handful of governance specialists. Corporate attorneys. The sort of people who normally a

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  • Miss Brown, Keep It Down   Chapter 75: Old Game, New Board

    Morning arrives slowly again.Not dramatically. Not with urgency.Just light.It slips through the tall windows in thin pale lines, stretching across the unfinished living room floor and catching on the edges of half-opened boxes. Dust particles drift lazily in the air, illuminated for a moment before disappearing again.The house is still quiet.Not empty.Occupied.The silence feels lived in now.The temporary kitchen setup is little more than a counter, a kettle, and two mismatched mugs they bought yesterday because the store didn’t sell them separately. The cabinets are still empty. The refrigerator contains exactly three things: water, milk, and leftover takeout.But the space smells like coffee.Sebastian stands barefoot on the cold tile, sleeves rolled up, one hand resting on the counter while the kettle finishes heating. His hair is still slightly disordered from sleep. He looks less like the CEO of anything and more like a man who woke up somewhere unfamiliar and decided to m

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    The door closes with a soft, almost careful click.Not a slam. Not a declaration. Just the quiet sound of something being sealed — a line crossed without ceremony.Katherine stays where she is, her back against the door, fingers still resting on the handle as if she hasn’t fully decided whether she’s arrived or merely paused. The house around them exists in half-light: tall windows catching the last gold of evening, empty rooms breathing softly, walls still unfamiliar enough to feel like a held breath.Sebastian doesn’t move.That’s the first thing she notices.No steps toward her. No instinct to fill the space. He lets the silence stretch, lets the quiet settle into the bones of the place like it belongs there. It’s a rare kind of restraint — not calculated, not strategic. Present.Katherine exhales slowly.Her voice, when it comes, is low. Thoughtful. Almost surprised by itself.“It’s strange,” she says.A pause.“Being alone somewhere that’s supposed to become… something.”The word

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    The hallway outside the boardroom was too quiet. Katherine sat alone in a sterile waiting lounge, her fingers laced tightly in her lap. Her legs bounced, her lungs constricted, and her heart thudded against her ribs like a warning bell. She hadn’t spoken since the meeting ended. No one had. The d

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    It was Saturday. But not the relaxing, lazy kind with tea and fuzzy socks. No — this was the kind of Saturday where Katherine Brown sat cross-legged on her living room rug, surrounded by takeout containers, mismatched pillows, and a hundred crumpled sticky notes that now read things like: “Leg

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